favorite confession. She was pretty still at fifty, slim and straight, with delicate features, and that ivory complexion which we associate with refinement and good blood; and the old waiting-woman knew how to faire valoir her fine person and features. She was dressed delicately in a black gown, with a white kerchief of spotless net-like a lady, everybody said. She shook her head with a smile of melancholy consciousness. "It's no' looks that does it," she said; "it's- Well, I canna tell. It's when you ken how to humor them and flatter them. But bless me, there's Janet, a woman that never flattered man nor woman either! I canna understand it, it's beyond me. But you mustna follow the mistress, Miss Nora. She's a happy woman enough, and a bonnie woman for her age, coming up there under her ain trees, just look at her. But if that young lad had been her son, instead of just a distant cousin" woman. when she was fresh from her toilet, but the wind always found out that small eccentricity, and Nora was not angry with the wind. Her ribbon was blue, and suited her far better than the most artistic yellow. All was fresh and fair about her, like the spring morning. "Na; I wouldna change a thing," Agnes said, looking at her anxiously in the glass, where they made the prettiest picture, the handsome old maid looking like a lady-in-waiting, her fine head appearing over the girl's shoulder, a lady-in-waiting anxiously surveying her princess, about to meet for the first time with King Charming, who has come to marry her. This was the real meaning of the group. Nora did not change her ribbon or her own appearance in any way, but she gave a glance to the table set out for luncheon, and renewed the flowers on it, watching all the while the other group which passed and repassed the large, round window of the dining-room, their voices audible as "Oh, but boys give a great deal of they talked. Miss Barbara had taken trouble," said Nora seriously. "Dear John's arm, which was a proof that he Miss Barbara, I like her best as she is." had found the way to her favor; and she "But you manna follow her example, was evidently asking him a hundred quesmy bonnie leddy, - you manna follow her tions. Snatches of their talk about his example. Take a pattern by your ain travels, about his plans, something which mammaw. I ca' her a happy woman, she could not make out about the Linyoung yet, and a good man, and a bonnie dores, caught the ear of Nora. They saw posie of bairns. Eh! I ca' her a happy her seated near the window, so there And takes no-thing upon her!" could be no reason why she should stop said Agnes," nothing upon her. You'll her ears. And Nora thought him "very come up the stair, Miss Nora, and look at nice" - that all-useful adjective. She yoursel in the glass. Oh no, there's no- could scarcely help letting her imaginathing wrang with your bonnie hair. Ition stray to the familiar place which she like it just so, - a wee blown about in the had known all her life her "dear Dalmornin' air. Untidy! bless me, no' the rulzian," which she had lamented so openleast untidy! but just give a look inly, which now she felt it would no longer the glass, and if you think another color be decorous to lament. He looked very would be more becoming, I have plenty like it, she thought. She could see him ribbons. Some folk thinks yellow's very in imagination standing in the kindly open artistic; but the mistress canna bide yel- door, on the walk, looking the very maslow. She's owre fair for it, and so are ter the place wanted. Papa had been too you." old for it. It wanted a young man, a young Well - she laughed and colored involuntarily of course a young wife too. In all likelihood that was all settled, the young wife ready, so that there was no reason to feel any embarrassment about it. And so he knew the Lindores! She would ask Edith all about him. There was, no doubt he was a very interesting figure in the country-side, "something for the misses to think about," as Agnes sait, though it was somewhat humiliating to think that "that dreadful man at Tinto" had roused a similar excitement. But the oftener John Erskine passed the window, the more he pleased "Why should I change my ribbon? It is quite tidy," said Nora, almost with indignation, standing before Miss Barbara's long cheval-glass. Agnes came and stood behind her, arranging her little collar and the draperies of her dress with caressing hands. And to tell the truth, Nora herself could not shut out from her mind an agreeable consciousness that she was looking "rather nice; for me," she added, in her own mind. The morning breeze had ruffled an incipient curl out of the hair which she had brushed, demure and smooth, over her forehead in the morning. It was a thing that nobody suspected | Nora Barrington. He was "very nice," she was sure. How kind and careful he was of Miss Barbara! How frank and open his countenance! his voice and his laugh so natural and cheerful! Up to this time, though Nora's imagination had not been utterly untouched, she was still free of any serious inclination, almost if not entirely fancy-free. It could not be denied that when the new Rintoul became known in the country-side, he, too, had been the object of many prognostications. And he had been, she felt, "very nice" to Nora. Though he had pretensions far above hers, and was nct in the least likely to ally himself to a family without fortune, his advances had been such as a girl cannot easily overlook. He was the first who had paid Nora "attention," and awakened her to a consciousness of power. And she had been flattered and pleased, being very young. But Nora now felt herself at that junction of the two roads, which, as has been said, is inevitable in the experience of every young soul. She was standing in suspense, saying to herself, with a partial sense of treachery and guilt, that Mr. Erskine was still more nice than Lord Rintoul. John Erskine of Dalrulzian; there was something delightful in the very name. All this, it is true, was entirely visionary, without solid foundation of any kind; for they had exchanged nothing but two shy bows, not a word as yet and whether he would be as "nice" when he talked, Nora did not know. Her decision afterwards, made with some mortification, was, that he was not nearly so nice when he talked. He showed no wish to talk to her at all, which was an experience quite out of Nora's way. She sat and listened, for the most part, at this simple banquet, growing angry in spite of herself, and altogether changing her opinion about Lord Rintoul. If she had been a little girl out of the nursery, John Erskine could scarcely have taken less notice of her. Miss Barbara and he continued their talk as if Nora had no existence at all. "Has my lord plans? For county hospitals and lunatic asylums. So he told me; and he wants my help. To hear even so much as that astonished me. When I knew him he was an elegant hypochondriac, doing nothing at all "He does plenty now, and cares much, for the world and the things of the world," said Miss Barbara. "I think I have divined his meaning; but we will wait and see. You need not sit and make those faces at me, Nora. I know well enough they are not to blame. A woman should know how to stand up for her own child better than that; but she was just struck helpless with surprise, I say nothing different. Speak of manœuvring mothers! manoeuvring fathers are a great deal worse. I cannot away with a man that will sacrifice his own flesh and blood. Fiegh! I would not do it for a kingdom. And the son, you'll see, will do the same. Hold you your tongue, Nora. I know better the son will do the very same. He will be sold to some grocer's daughter for her hogsheads. Perhaps they're wanted; two jointures to pay is hard upon any estate, and a title will always bring in money when it's put up for sale in a judicious way. But you must have your wits about you now, if you have any dealings with your elegant hypochondriac, John, my man. You're too small-too small for him; but if you had fifty thousand a year, you would soon soon be helpless in his hands ——— ” "I always thought it a great pity that you were brought up so far from home," the old lady said. "You know nothing about your own place, or the ways of the country-side. It will take you a long time to make that up. But the neighbors are all very kind, and Lindores, no doubt, will be a great resource, now there's a young family in it. Fortunately for you, John, you're not grand enough nor rich enough to come into my lord's plans." "Oh, Miss Barbara," cried Nora, “you are unjust to Lord Lindores. Remember how kind he has been to us, and we have not fifty thousand, nor fifty hundred a year." "You're not a young man," said Miss Barbara; "but, John, take you care of dangling about Lindores. I am not naming any names; but there may be heartaches gotten there nothing more for a man of your small means. Oh ay! perhaps I ought to hold my tongue before Nora; but she will be well advised if she takes care too; and besides, she knows all about it as well as I do myself." "I hope," said John courteously, for he saw that Nora's composure was disturbed by these last warnings, and he was glad of a chance to change the subject, "I hope I may be so fortunate as to see Colonel Barrington before he leaves the country. He has done so well by Dalrulzian, I should like to thank him for his care." This made Nora more red than before. She could not get over that foolish idea that Dalrulzian was far more to her than to this stranger, who could not care for it as she did. She felt that his thanks were an offence. "Papa has gone, Mr. Erskine," she said, with unusual stateliness. "I am left behind to pay some visits. Everybody here has been so good to us." "That means we are all fond of her bit bright face," said Miss Barbara; "but we'll say no more on that subject, Nora. Human nature's selfish in grain. The like of me will take no trouble for lad or lass that is not sweet to see, and a comfort to the heart." "I never heard such a pretty apology for selfishness before," said John. And Miss Barbara took his compliment in good part. But he and Nora made no further approach to each other. Those praises of her made him draw back visibly, she thought, and embarrassed herself beyond bearing. To be praised before an unsympathetic, silently protesting audiencecan anything be more humiliating? Nora was conscious of something like dislike of John Erskine before he went away. And yet his state of feeling was natural enough. He believed that the young lady, so dangerously suitable for him, the very wife he wanted, was being thrust upon him on every side, and the thought revolted him. No doubt, he thought, if she were conscious of it, it must be revolting to her too; and in such a case the highest politeness was to be all but rude to her, to show at once and conclusively that schemes of the kind were hopeless. This sentiment was strengthened in the present case by the irritation caused by Miss Barbara's warning about Lindores, and the heartache which was all that a man of his means was likely to get there. He laughed at it, yet it made him angry. He who had been always used to feel himself a person of importance - he for whom, even now, the whole country was taking the trouble to scheme to have himself suddenly classified with other small deer as quite beneath the consideration of the Lindores family, too small for my lord's plans! It was scarcely possible to imagine anything more irritating. After all, a Scotch lord was no such grand affair; and John could not be ignorant that, five years ago, neither father nor mother would have repulsed him. Now! but the doubt, the risk, did not induce the young man to be wise to put Lady Edith out of his imagination, and turn his thoughts to the other, just as pretty, if that were all, who was manifestly within his reach. What a pity that young people are so But as he set out on his homeward walk, his eyes caught that great house of Tinto, which from Dunearn was the central object in the landscape — an immense house, seated on a high platform of rock, dominating the river and the whole country, with scarcely wood enough about it to afford any shadow; an ostentatious pile of building, with that spot of audacious red against the grey sky the flag always flying (set him up! Miss Barbara said) when the master was at home, which was, so to speak, the straw which broke the camel's back, the supreme piece of vanity which the county could not tolerate. Pat Torrance to mount a flag upon his house to mark his presence! What more could Sacred Majesty itself do? John Erskine felt as if some malicious spirit had thrown a stone at him out of the clouds as his eye was caught by that flaunting speck of red. He felt all the local intolerance of the man, without a claim but his money to crow thus over his neighbors. And then he thought of Carry Lindores and her poetry and enthusiasm. That was how the earl disposed of his daughters. A thrill ran through John's frame, but it was a thrill of defiance. He raised his stick unawares and waved it, as if at the big bully who thus scorned him from afar. CHAPTER IX. LADY CAROLINE TORRANCE was in her morning-room with her children when her husband came to tell her of his visit to Dalrulzian. He had kept it for twentyfour hours, in order to have an opportu nity of telling it at his leisure, and making it as disagreeable to her as possible; for indeed he was fully convinced in his own mind that John had been the man about whom his broken-hearted bride had made a confession to him. The confession had not disarmed or moved him to generosity; not that his delicacy was wounded by the thought of his wife's engagement to some one else before she saw him- no such fantastical reason moved him; but that he was furious at the thought that this unseen personage still remained agreeable posed to the full keenness of the breeze was conveyed to the mind. How often had poor Lady Car sat and shivered looking over that wistful sweep of distance in her loneliness, and knowing that no one could ever come out of it who would bring joy to her or content! She had never been beautiful, the reader is aware. She was plair now, in the absence of all that sunshine and happiness which beautifies and brightens homely faces. And yet her face was not a homely face. The master of Tinto had got what he wanted - a woman whose appearance could never be overlooked, or whom any one could undervalue. Her air was full of natural distinction though she had no beauty. Her slight, pliant figure, like a long sapling bending before every breeze, had a grace of gentle yielding which did not look like weakness; and her smile, if perhaps a little timid, was winning and gracious. But her nose and her upper lip were both too long, and the pretty wavering color she had possessed in her youth was gone altogether. Ill-natured people called her sallow; and indeed, though it is not a pretty word, it was not, at this stage of her existence, far from the truth. to her, and that in secret she could retire | pression of being out of doors and exupon the recollection of some one whom she had once preferred, or perhaps did now prefer, to himself. This was insupportable to him. He did not care very much for filling her heart himself; but he meant that she should belong to him ut terly, and not at all, even in iinagination or by a passing thought, to anybody else. Lady Car's morning-room was the last of a gorgeous but faded suite of rooms opening off the drawing-room, from which it was separated by heavy velvet curtains. Everything was heavy and grand even in this sanctuary, where it was supposed the lady of the house was to find her refuge when no longer on duty, so to speak - no longer bound to sit in state and receive her visitors. It was furnished like the rest, with gilded chairs, a table of Florentine mosaic, and curtains of ruby velvet looped and puckered into what the upholsterer of the late Mrs. Torrance's time thought the most elegant and sumptuous fashion. The gilding was a little tarnished, the velvet faded; but still it was too fine for anything less than a royal habitation. It is supposed that princesses, being used to it, like to knock their elbows against ormolu ornaments, and to put down their thimbles and scissors (if Her two children were playing beside they ever use such vulgar implements) her on the carpet. Poor lady! here was upon marble; but poor Lady Car did not. perhaps the worst circumstance in her She was chilly by nature, and she never hard lot. As if it were not enough to be had got over her horror of these addi- compelled to take Pat Torrance for her tional chillinesses. The Florentine mar- husband, it had been her melancholy fate ble made her shiver. It was far too fine to bring other Torrances, all his in temper to have a cover over it, which she had and feature, into the world. This is an ventured once to suggest, to her hus aggravation of which nobody would have band's horror. "What! cover it up as if thought. In imagination we are all glad it were plain mahogany-a thing that to find a refuge for an unhappy wife in was worth no one could tell how much!" her children, whom instinctively we allot So she gave it up, and shivered all the to her as the natural compensation more. It was a chilly day of May, which creatures like herself and belonging to the fresh foliage outside, and a deceitful her, although the part in them of the obsun not strong enough to neutralize the noxious father cannot be ignored. But east wind, made only a little less genial, here the obnoxious father was all in all; and Lady Car sat very close to the fire, in even the baby of two years old on the rug a chair as little gilt as could be found, and at her feet, the little girl who by all laws with a little table beside her covered with ought to have been like her mother, a warm and heavy cover, as if to make up showed in her little dark countenance as for the naked coldness of the rest. The small relationship to Lady Caroline as to room had three large windows, looking, any stranger. They were their father's from the platform upon which the house children: they had his black hair, a pestood, over the wide country a great culiarity which sometimes is extremely landscape full of greening fields and foli- piquant and attractive in childhood, giving age, and an infinite blue and white sky, an idea of unusual development; but, on the blue somewhat pale but very clear, the the other hand, sometimes is — not. clouds mounting in Alpine peaks into the tle Tom and Edie were of those to whom far distance and lying along the horizon it is not attractive, for they had heavy fat in long lines. The windows, it need not cheeks, and the same light, large, projectbe said, were plate-glass, so that an im-ing eyes which were so marked a feature Lit in their father's face. Poor Lady Car thought they fixed their eyes upon her with a cynical gaze when she tried to sing to them to tell them baby-stories. She tried her best, but that was perhaps too fine for these children of a coarser race. They scrambled down from her lap, and liked better to roll upon the floor, or break with noisy delight the toys which were showered upon them, leaving the poor young mother to gaze and wonder, and feel as much rebuffed as if these two infants of two and three had been twenty years older. They screamed with delight when their father tossed them up in his arms, but they escaped from their moth er's knee when she would have coaxed them to quiet. Poor Lady Car! they were a wonder and perplexity to her. She was half afraid of them though they were her own. if you break your fine toys like this, I'll break your head. But it's not the children's fault," he added, "it's the way they're bred." "It is very wrong of Tommy,” said poor Lady Car, "but you laughed and clapped your hands yesterday when I found fault." "I won't have the boy's spirit broken that's another thing. Breeding's an affair of day by day; but it can't be expected that you should take such trouble, with your head full of other things." "What other things?" cried Lady Car. "Oh, Pat, have a little pity! What else have I to think of? I may not understand the children, but they are my only thought." Here he gave a mocking, triumphant laugh. "No, I dare say you don't understand them. They're of my side of the house," he said. It was a pleasure to him, but not an unalloyed pleasure, for he would have liked to secure in his daughter at least some reflection of her mother's high-bred air, which had always been her attraction in his eyes. "As for other things," he added, "there's plenty : for instance, I have just been visiting your old friend." 66 My old friend?" Lady Caroline looked at him with wondering eyes. "Oh, that is the way, is it? pretend you don't understand! I went expressly for your sake. You see what a husband I am: not half appreciated - ready to please his wife in every sort of way. I don't think much of your taste, though: under size,” said Torrance, with a laugh, "decidedly under size." Torrance had come in from the woods, which he had been inspecting with his forester, and perhaps something had crossed him in this inspection, for he was a tyrant by nature, and could not tolerate a contrary opinion; whereas the officials, so to speak, of a great estate in Scotland, are much given to opinions, and by no means to be persuaded to relinquish them. The forester had objected to something the master suggested, and the agent had taken the forester's part. The master of Tinto came in fuming. To give in was a thing intolerable to him, and to give in to his own servant! But here was another servant whom he need not fear bullying, who could not throw up her situation and put him to inconvenience, who was forced to put up with as much indignity as he chose to put upon her. This thought gave his mind a welcome relief; he strode along through all the gilded rooms with a footstep which meant mischief. Lady Caroline heard it afar off, and recognized the sound. What could it be now? Her mind ran hurriedly over the recent occur rences of the day, to think what possible offence she could have given him. Noth ing or at least she could think of noth-bitual bend. ing. It did not require a very solid rea son for the transference to her shoulders of the rage which he did not think it expedient to bestow upon some one else. He came in kicking out of the way the toys with which the children were playing. These monkeys," he said, "would ruin a Jew if they grow up the way you are breeding them, my lady. That cost a pound or two yesterday, and now it's all in bits. If your family could stand such extravagance, mine can't. Tom, my lad, Lady Car looked at him with a momentary elevation of her slender, drooping throat. The action was one that had a certain pride in it, and this was what her husband specially admired in her. But she did not understand him, nor was there any secret in her gentle soul to be found out by innuendoes. She shook her head gently, and drooped it again with her ha "I do not know what you mean. It must be some mistake," she said. "It is no mistake, Lady Car. That's not my way to make mistakes. It suits you not to know. That makes me all the more certain. Oh, I'm not afraid of you. We're not in Italy or any of these places. And you're a great deal too proud to go wrong: you're too cold, you have not got it in you." Lady Caroline raised her head again, but this time in sheer surprise. "Pat,” |